The Bravery of a Siha
by The Sun In The East
Summary: A scene some months after the end of Mass Effect 2, as it becomes clear that Thane's time is to be counted in weeks or even days. Romantic and sweet, possibly to be continued with a few more scenes following the same time period.


Disclaimer: All things belong to Bioware. I just made my Shepard :)

**The Bravery of a Siha**

It was hard to breathe. He had to struggle to fill his lungs. They felt heavy, wet, refusing to inflate. His lungs felt dead. He imagined they had turned black, or some equally unfavorable color, as they tumbled into failure.

_Sunset eyes, defiant in the scope. _

Oh, how the drell assassin missed those eyes.

It almost felt wrong, thinking of her in these moments. She had been so alive, her eyes flickering with passion, each a sparkling, sacred flame. Such were the eyes of a siha. Oh, that they had taken her from him.

But… then, there was Lyra Shepard. Out of nowhere, or perhaps from the sea, had come Lyra Shepard.

Far away, Thane could hear his commander talking. She was in a near-by room, probably trying to figure out what was to be done for him. She had tried to convince him to move into the medical bay, but he had refused. That was no way to die.

He lay on a stark, white bed, his back to the door. It all seemed too bright. The white of the sheets, even the green of his own hands. He heard the cool metallic doors slide open, and he tried to sit up, or even just turn over to face her. He found he couldn't. His whole body felt sluggish, as if the air around him was of the same consistency as his now-gelatinous lungs. He was drowning.

"Are you awake, Thane?" Lyra's voice took a moment to process through Thane's sluggish ears. He had become good at understanding the inflections of human voices, Lyra's especially. She always had that ring of confidence to her tone, which had fooled so many in times like this. Not Thane, however. He could hear her heart breaking.

"For you, siha? Always," he kept his voice steady: a low, soft rumble from deep in his chest. He knew that if his voice could maintain stability, it would comfort Lyra: she had often said that his voice was soothing.

He wished he could think of a word to describe Lyra's eyes as she came to the other side of his cot, so as to face him. They were… blue, certainly, but he had decided that wasn't nearly poetic enough.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, gripping his hands in her own, just as they had so many times as she sat across the table from him. But now he was lying on a cot, unable to even turn himself. But her words rang the same.

"No worse, siha."

"Nice try. I… was just talking to Dr. Chakwas. She said she has a machine, something that will help you…"

Thane shook his head, a human way of expressing negativity that he had picked up from Lyra. "No machines," he rasped. "That is no way to die."

"I knew you'd say that," Lyra's eyes were mournful. Gods, how could he begin to describe that color? "I've… we decided to go to the Citadel," she touched his cheek softly, running her impeccably pink fingertips over the hard ridge of his brow. "Do you want to see Kolyat?"

"We weren't headed for the Citadel yesterday," Thane rumbled.

"Yesterday, you could still get up," Lyra replied.

It occurred to him that Lyra had once told him that the color of the sky on the human home world was blue. Perhaps that was a way to describe her eyes? She was human, after all. Her sky eyes were slick with rain, possibly his least favorite substance in the galaxy.

She was right, though: his condition had taken a drastic change for the worse in the past few days. He knew Dr. Chakwas kept records on the exact percentage of his lung capacity, but she had begun to refuse to give him that number of late. Lyra would know. He wanted to curse that ugly number, whatever it was, right out of existence. It was putting the rain in her eyes.

"Yes. I would like to see Kolyat. Of course," the dying drell finally responded.

Lyra nodded, and swallowed. "You will, then," she said. Thane had never heard her voice so soft.

"I am not ready to leave you," Thane rasped. "But I know I am nearly gone."

"Shhh, Thane…" Lyra whispered. The way she said his name sent a shiver down his spine. And then, suddenly, a memory:

_She says his name, so tender, all the comfort ever offered bundled up in that single syllable, the crafting of his name from her soft pink lips, her eye lashes brushing against his cheek as she pulls him close. The mission none had ever returned loomed on the horizon, but she comforted him, as he breathed his painful awareness in and out. He was no longer resigned to die._

He returned to the present.

Thane raised his hand touch her cheek. She closed her eyes, and as she did, he felt her eyelashes brush against his fingertips. "Siha, are your eyes the same shade of blue as the human sky?"

Lyra looked taken aback for a moment. "N-not quite," she said.

"Ah," Thane said, slightly disappointed.

"Where did that come from?"

"I was thinking of Irikah's eyes, earlier."

"Sunset eyes," Lyra remembered.

His second siha's soft respect for her predecessor was something Thane had never taken for granted. "I am seeking a way to describe your eyes," he explained.

Lyra smiled slightly, "I don't need anything like that. Fancy-colored eyes aren't my style."

"But they are. You've awakened me, yet again."

"So you've said," Lyra tried to hide the way her voice was breaking, but Thane noticed it.

"I am not gone yet," he softly reassured, "…and I am still not ready to go."

Thane could see the unknown number dancing in her eyes. What was it? What number was she seeing? How low had his lung capacity fallen? "I'm not ready to lose you," she whispered, dewdrops beading on her eyelashes.

"No tears. There are a few more days left for me, at least."

"Right," Lyra whimpered.

_Whimper_. He never thought to associate that word with Lyra.

"Do not sound like that," he murmured. "You are brave, Commander Shepard, my siha. I am proud have loved you, and to have been loved by you in return. You have given me an unfathomable and unexpected happiness near my end, brief though it must be."

Lyra squeezed his hand, "Thank you, Thane."

"I love you, siha. You have awakened me under a sunlit sky. Thank you for being brave enough to love a dying man, "Thane's breath was becoming truly laborious with further conversation, his voice whispered and strained.

"I love you too," Lyra replied, her voice as soft as his, if smoother. She seemed to have gained some composure. "You've… you're having trouble speaking," Thane started to interrupted, but she put a finger to his lips. "Don't fight it. I can tell. You're struggling. Rest, my love. I'll wake you when it's time to speak with Kolyat. We'll talk again soon," she trailed her finger down the deep line that split his mouth and chin.

"Yes," Thane replied, his voice nearly lost. "Soon, my siha, for there is little time left."

Lyra Shepard sat beside her dying lover until she was sure he was asleep. She kissed his forehead, then, softly, the edges of his scales sharp against her lips, and left him to rest.


End file.
